


Colorless

by XxanglecakesxX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bullying, Confusing, Cussing, Highschool AU, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Old work, Violence, bad homelife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:37:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxanglecakesxX/pseuds/XxanglecakesxX
Summary: Blue, Green, Indigo,Violent,Yellow,Orange, and Red. Colors that blurred together in his world and until only the void remained. Arthur meets the new student, Alfred Jones who had moved to Arthur's small town because of his father's job. Happy and colorful, he is everything that Arthur despises.However, he can't hate him and wonders if Alfred will be his thread of hope.





	Colorless

 

Blue,  

Green,

 Indigo,  

Violet,  

Yellow,

 Orange,  

Red  

Green eyes bore into the dark blue sky above, hiding behind a coat of murky waters. He could hear muffled voices resounding through the waters, and causing small ripples to break its cloudy surface. Two unblinking eyes watched blurry figures shuffle their feet and move their arms about in odd motions, mouths moving and jaws opening and closing like drawbridges. The figures faded in and out, blending and separating like little dancing flowers on yellow mud beneath the afternoon sun.

 A small breathe trapped itself between his lungs, pushing and pulling itself against his chest. He held it. He stayed still. It whirled itself inside him, trying to escape by clutching and crawling its hands at his heart.  

The figures slowly mixed with the green and the blue, the sunlight obscuring them until they were nothing but little bright bulbs hanging above his head. Green eyes darted around, waiting for the figures to disappear from its pools so it could set the little breathe free. But they stayed. Slowly, green began to fade into blue and the little breathe had begun to stop struggling, losing its fervor. He let his body sink deeper and deeper into the water until it was sure to hit the filthy mud beneath.

 The breathe had stopped struggling and the green eyes were flicking in and out of the blue as they gazed dully at the floating white, hanging off a woven chain, that swirled around with a gentle ruffle. His arms dangling upward, his legs rising, while his back fell and he stayed limp like an uprooted weed.

 

 “Blue”

 “Hey, are you alright?” Green eyes blinked at the white snow, where a blue folder lay near his feet.  

They looked up at the source of the disrupting clamor and they were met with a sky blue.  

The boy spoke again, “Hey, are you okay?” his boots kicked through the snow with more force than necessary and sent chucks of snow flying throw the air. The boy moved closer as green eyes watched him with a blank stare.  

He stopped in front of them, boots softly kicking at the snow to create two large holes for the boy to stand in comfortably. His eyes flicked from his boots to the boy’s pale, young face with a red tipped nose, then to his eyes blue as the bright sky.  

“Blue”, a gloved hand broke free from its confinement of his jacket pocket.  

It touched his shoulder hesitantly, slowly wrapping its fingers around the fabric of his coat.

 “Hey, dude are you alright”, blue eyes gazed at him intently waiting for a response.  

His green eyes merely continued to stare at the two blue pools on his face with the depth of the world’s skies; however they slowly began to cloud with worry.  

“Hey dude, are you okay? Answer me please? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” the boy’s voice was more urgent now, frantic as his hand began to shake his shoulder lightly.  

“I am fine” he finally answered, eyes turning into a vibrant shade of green, being pulled out of his trance.

 “Are you sure dude?” the boy in front of him asked, voice laced with worry, he squeezed his shoulder lightly as if he was making sure he was out of his trance. Green eyes glared with ruinous purpose at the hand on his shoulder, the hand dropped slowly and fell to its owner’s side.

 “Yes, why?” he said. “Nothing, it’s just I have been asking you for the past ten minutes to hand me that blue folder next to your feet.” He pointed to it.  

“But you just stood still and kept saying blue, blue, over and over. I kinda got worried there for second.” He laughed nervously. Boredom began to reek in the back of his head, spreading its nauseating odor to his nostrils, and make him scrunch his nose in annoyance.

 The boy in front of him shuffled his feet back and forth awkwardly, digging his boots into the snow and making his holes bigger.  

They looked like two little squirrels playing leap- frog. He wondered absently if there were any spring- frogs near. _Don’t be an idiot, it’s not even close to spring, all the animals are still hibernating and most squirrels, the smart ones at least, would have gathered food in the summer and fall._ _What if a hawk swooped in and just snapped those poor squirrels by the scruff of their necks?_ He thought, a little worried now for the defenseless small animals. It’s quite possible he mused.  

Their poor families would mourn all winter and cry acorny tears; all the animals would attend their funerals. Poor little things, the rabbits would come and offer their condolences, the beetles would make the shrouds, and the owls would dig their graves.

 The rook would be parson, speaking strange words from his little book with a melancholic tone. The Lark would be the clerk, the linnet would carry the link, the doves would mourn all day for the loss of the poor dears, and the kites would carry the coffins.

 Yes, the whole forest would be in a state of mourning! He wondered if he could attend the funeral too and offer his condolences with the rabbits. What of the worms, would they be polite enough to not to start feasting upon the poor squirrels buried deep within the earth, until the animals stopping mourning at least? It wouldn’t be the first time they did that. Bold, rude creatures, they were! He hoped they would consider the squirrels’ families feeling at the very least; otherwise he shall have a very meaningful conversation with those brutes.

 They are probably still angry at him because he accidentally stepped on one of them on a rainy morning, a month or two ago. Oh how those things held grudges! It wasn’t his fault though; he had been in a hurry that morning, because his stupid neighbor’s cat had decided to chance him all the way to bus stop. The streets of his eerily silent neighborhood had been wet and mossy with squiggly lines of worms scattered all over it, exchanging gossip about the fox’s most recent wife (the previous had mysteriously disappeared).

 He paid no heed to their tittle-tattle, and made his way down the muddy road- back hunched as his heavy backpack weighted him down. The moon still hung in the sky refusing to let the sun rise and the smell of the misty recent rain still resonated through the air, he always woke up really early to watch the sunrise. The dark sky shimmering with the faintest bits of sunlight was enough for the stupid cat to spot him from far away. Doesn’t that thing ever sleep? Its dark honey-suckle irises narrowed at him as it began to chase after him.

 In his haste he hadn’t notice the little worm wiggling its way to its friends and stepped on it. Admittedly, he had thought it was a stick and had purposefully stomped on it as a way to express his fury at the stupid cat. Oh how he would like to strangle it, rip open its fat belly and give its heart as a Christmas present to the little old lady next door. He smiled as he thought of the stupid fat, old woman horrified face when she sees her cat ripped to shreds before her, its body parts placed in a pretty box, wrapped in colorful paper with a neat little bow on top.

 She would have a heart attack right then and there! He laughed that would be most pleasant – a great Christmas present as well. He frowned as he heard the dead worms’ friend scream blue murder. And before he knew it, he was put on trial, like he committed a great atrocity. Stupid worms, they are always so dramatic! He sighed and shook his head, like they hadn’t down worse things.

 But, no when Arthur simply made a silly mistake suddenly they were the innocent victims and he the evil monster. Stupid manipulative, cunning things. If it weren’t for the birds and the rabbits on his side, he would have been executed on the spot without a doubt. He wondered if it had all been that thing’s plan all along. He clenched his fists in anger as he swore on that worm’s grave that he will avenge it.

 He’ll— “My name’s Alfred, what’s yours?” the boy’s voice interrupted his thoughts, no doubt thinking it would be a good thing to break the prolonged awkward silence. He felt as if his eardrums were going to burst from the boy’s infuriating voice, it sounded like branches scratching against windowpanes. He winced, feeling like his ears were going to bleed. He wanted to rip out his vocal chords and—“Arthur” he replied shortly.  

The boy smiled brightly, delighted that he learned the strange boy’s name. The first step in making a new friend is learning their name after all. Arthur scowled at him and the urge to strangle the boy in front of him began to resurface.

 “Cool” he said and his lips seemed to stretch upward across his face. Arthur marveled at the sight, he must have a pretty strong jaw. He didn’t think anybody could smile that wide.  

“Um— dude, can you hand me that blue folder next you?” Arthur blinked at him before noticing, indeed there was a blue folder next to him. He bent down to pick it up, brushing slightly melted snow off of it and handing it to Alfred. “Thanks bro!” Arthur frowned and narrowed his eyes.

 “So, um you wouldn’t happen to know where art class is, would you?” Alfred, Arthur had found was very talkative, he could talk for ages he could talk about anything and nothing without so much as a pause for breathe. He told him how he moved here with his parents and younger brother because of his father’s job transfer.

Which came with no surprise to him, for Alfred didn’t act like the townspeople he was too happy and cheery to be one of those ugly people. He told how he had been upset because he had live all his life in the suburbs and had many close friends there, who he have been looking forward to attending high school with. He was also nervous because he didn’t know what people here were like, and was afraid of how they would react.  

He too, would be scared if he suddenly moved from the lively suburbs to quiet small town in the middle of nowhere in freshmen year in high school, Arthur thought. However, Alfred nervousness and insecurities disappeared as soon as they appeared and he was back to his sprightly self, talking away like there was no tomorrow.  

By the end of second block, Arthur knew all there is to about Alfred F. Jones, from how he didn’t what the ‘F’ in his name stand for, saying that his dad most likely made a mistake on his birth certificate to how he climbed a tree and broke his arm because he thought he saw a fish drinking coffee on the leaves when he had been given painkillers after he had gotten his wisdom teeth taken out.  

Arthur sighed as they made their way to their next class; art had been uneventful with introduction and everyone whispering about the new kid. In a town where everyone knew everyone and no visitors came at all, a new student– was the talk of the decade, even the teachers were talking.  

And history, of course was no different. He sighed again as they climbed up the stairs, to Alfred’s delight and Arthur’s dismay they had almost all their classes together. Alfred was chatting away, something about accidentally burying his brother in the sand on their vacation and forgetting about him for almost three hours. Arthur really wasn’t paying attention, “Good thing I didn’t bury his head, but his face was completely sunburned” Alfred laughed.

 Arthur wondered how one got from talking about erasers and how awesome they were to accidentally burying your brother in the sand, and people say he’s a scatter-brain. Upon entering their English class, everyone turned to look at them and people began to whisper.  

Arthur huffed and made his way to his seat in front of the class, but still close enough to the window for him to daydream as much as he liked. Alfred followed him and sat behind him. How annoying. The bell rang and a middle-aged woman with long brown hair and big round glasses made her way to front of the room, “I understand we have a new student with us” she said motioning to Alfred .  

“Would you care to introduce yourself?” she asked Alfred raised his hand in a mock wave, “Alfred Jones.”  

The class whispers got louder and Arthur heard one of the girls whisper about how hot Alfred was. Arthur frowned, that was another thing that he found about Alfred … he was very social and anyone who met him can’t help but like him, his carefree personality simply didn’t allow for anyone to dislike him. Not only was he good-looking, but he had a certain charisma about him that made people want to talk to him. That wasn’t what annoyed Arthur the most, however; it was the fact that the boy wasn’t put off by Arthur’s cold, harsh demeanor or his rude snide remarks, or his sarcastic tone or even his complete and utter silence and his creepy (as people had often told him so) staring. The strange trance-like daydreams that Arthur would slip into wouldn’t put him off either.  

Even as Arthur’s green eyes became a strange, dull color when he was far way in his own world or when they became a poisonous green with rage, Alfred didn’t go away. Even the fact that Arthur sometimes completely ignored him didn’t stop Alfred from chatting; most likely knowing that Arthur would pay attention eventually, out of boredom or out of curiosity, he concluded. No, nothing he did or said made Alfred leave like everyone else. It irked him. It made his heart twist in agony against the hot boiling blood inside of it.  

He wasn’t scared of him; he didn’t call him a psycho. He didn’t resent him like everyone else and by Lunchtime, Alfred had proclaimed that they were best friends! God, that boy made him think of horrible, terrible things that he would like to do to him and that cat, but even if Alfred could read minds he wouldn’t be bothered by Arthur’s thoughts at all. Arthur was sure of it! Was he that oblivious?

 “Hey, Artie can I borrow a dollar?” Arthur frowned at the nickname before taking out a dollar and handing to Alfred.

 Alfred’s blue eyes shined with happiness, before taking the dollar, “Thanks, arts! You’re the best!” he said as he ran down the hall to the vending machine. Arthur sighed, it had been a few months and he had more or less got used to Alfred’s presence (grudgingly, of course). No matter how much time passed, Alfred never changed, he never turned into one of the townspeople, his personality remaining cheery.  He stood out in blue amongst the gray, if that wasn’t annoying enough the boy had a few minor ‘vices’ that irritated Arthur even further. It left Arthur wanting nothing more than to offer him as a sacrifice to the worms or at least as an apologize-gift, for they were still mad.  

One of these flaws was his ‘borrowing’ of money , it was never much, only a dollar each morning to buy an unhealthy snack that he claimed was his breakfast because he was in a rush in the morning and didn’t have time to eat anything.  

It became an odd little routine between them: Arthur would get to school early and wait by the library entrance, sitting on the ground leaning his back against the wall, waiting for the librarian to come open the door.

 Alfred would arrive ten minutes later asking for a dollar, running do the hall to get his snack, and then he would come munching on something different each day and sit next to Arthur and talk as he always did.  

What annoyed Arthur the most; however was that he was actually getting use to this, if this continued until the end of high school. Alfred would no doubt owe him trillions of dollars and Arthur would make him pay.  

Every single one of them! He smiled smugly as he thought of Alfred’s reaction. “Hey, what’s so funny?” Alfred loud voice through the halls; interrupting Arthur’s thoughts yet again (another vice).

 “Nothing” he replied.

 “Aww come on you’re no fun!” he said as he sat down next to Arthur and proceeded to open his snack.

“Leave alone you fucking idiot!” Arthur glared at Alfred who was still trying to open his bag of chocolate and peanut butter wafers. His right twitched at the sound of crumbling plastic paper. Alfred paid no attention to his insult and focused solely on getting the plastic bag in his hand open.  

**_Rip_ **

**_Rip_ **

**_Rip_ **

 “And for goodness sake, give me that” Arthur quickly snatched the bag from Alfred and opened it. A small protest came from Alfred before his pout quickly disappeared at seeing the bag ripped open.

 “Thanks, Iggy you’re truly are the best!” Another vice, Alfred called him by a different nickname every time he spoke to him. Did he have a thousand nicknames for him or something? Where does he even come with these things? Seriously how could anyone come up with the nickname Iggy for Arthur? There is no connection between those two names whatsoever! It didn’t make sense!  

**_Munch_ **

**_Munch_ **

**_Munch_  **

Alfred was gnawing on his wafers loudly. Arthur left eye twitched this time, he sighed in exasperation. There was no end to his suffering! Maybe he could get the owl to bury Alfred alive, after all it was very good at digging graves.

 “Hey, Arthur” Alfred catching his blank stare and sensing he was about to go into another trance. “Do you want one” he said as he offered him one of his wafers. Arthur looked with disgust at his sticky fingers covered in chocolate,

 “No thanks, I don’t like peanut butter” Alfred frowned, but said nothing. _You are too skinny! So small and tiny that if some would accidentally run into, you would go flying in the air!_ He had told him once as he held both of Arthur’s hands in one hand to emphasize his point.  

Alfred’s mother had said something similar when he first met Alfred’s parents a couple of weeks ago, “You are so small, but that’s no problem I’ll fatten you up in no time” He sighed; they were all annoying, the entire Fucking Jones family! Maybe that’s what the ‘F’ stands for. He smiled and Alfred frown deepened. 

 

* * *

 

  “What are you doing?”  

Arthur snapped his head at the grinning blonde above him.

 “Can’t you not stand so close?” Alfred had somehow moved his entire desk, until the back of the chair hit the front of Arthur’s desk.

 He leaned back, one of his arms wrapped around the back of his seat and the other was resting on Arthur desk. “I am not standing I am sitting silly” he replied with the grin still craved on his face  

“Of course you are” _That’s what I get for sitting behind the buffoon._ _But this is my seat!_ _It is my window seat! I was here first!_ Arthur shook his head annoyed; no it does not matter once that idiot decided on something he doesn’t give in.

Stupid, stubborn— what the hell? Why is he moving his mouth up and down like that?! Oh he’s talking quick pretend you were listening, “I absolutely agree!”  

“What?”  

“What- what?”  

“I asked you what you were drawing and you said that you absolutely agree”  

“Oh, um just drawing” he said as he quickly moved to cover his sketch.

 “Let me see it” Alfred said as he tried to move Arthur’s arms.

 “No”  

“Come on, let me see it”  

“ **NO!** ”

 “Dude, come on let me see your drawing, you are supposed to be doing work anyway, but you are doodling instead. Let me see your doodle before I go tell the teacher.”  

“No, and besides the teacher doesn’t care and don’t call it that” Arthur said as he to push him away.

 “Come on please” he said as he tried to sneak a peek when Arthur was pushing him.

“Fine” Arthur removed his arms and turned to gaze out the window.

 The beautiful blue sky with the shinning bright, he could almost see the outline of the cedar trees from here. He wondered what the rabbits were doing at this time of day—it is such a pretty day out, they properly play hopscotch.

If they are Arthur would very much like to join them. Anything is better than staying here with all these people who — NO, it’s best not to think about that. Yes, it’s best to forget! Alfred was quiet to see Arthur’s drawing; he didn’t what to except (a very poorly drawn stickman).

 Properly, he definitely was excepting the beautiful art piece that he saw. It was mesmerizing, captivating his blue eyes and refusing to let them go. The piece was both awe-striking and horrifying-the lines drawn so precise yet so fluid that Alfred thought it must have taken ages.

 “It’s beautiful, what is it?” despite the clear painstaking details displayed in front, Alfred for the love him couldn’t tell what it is.  

“It’s an Achromatic Incubus” Arthur turned away from the window to see Alfred staring at him with bright blue eyes like he just made his day. “Cool! What is that exactly?” Arthur sighed. “It’s a monster that steals the color from your dreams while you sleep”

 “Pfff… don’t tell me you believe in that stuff.” Alfred laughed “Yes I believe in it, what of it?” Arthur glared at him “You can’t be serious, Artie” Alfred covered his face with his hand as he tried not to laugh “I am—” Alfred laughed louder no longer covering is face with his hand.

 “Look I will prove it! Ever had any black and white dreams” “Yeah… but that doesn’t mean anything, it’s just—” he stopped when he saw Arthur’s smirk.  

“Fine, you win they’re real” Alfred said as mockingly waved his hands around.  

“Idiot” Arthur muttered as he turned to stare out the window once again. Alfred smiled softly and flickered his gaze back to the drawing again. It was a monstrous being with a gangly frame, a mass of tangled limbs, and fingernails so long it reached its feet-they were sharper than a tiger’s claws.  

Its teeth, eerily incandescent, emitted a strange golden glow and were as sharp as a fine diamond sword. Its skin was oozing black with clusters of yellow and blue bruises and patches trying to hide the scarred tissue and gave off pleasant, humane appearance, but the obvious artificiality of it made look all the more diabolical.

 Its eyes were the most terrifying, however; two black holes sunken in their sockets radiating a sickly red glow. It was hideous, absolutely, positively hideous, yet so beautiful so angelic that Alfred wanted to sink forever into its deep red pools.

_No!_ Alfred shook his head. It was disturbing – a nightmare that’s been brought to life on paper by lead and ink, and yet it was not as petrifying as its creator.

 Arthur was green eyes stared at him, a gleaming smile hiding behind their depth. The world was silent, a vast dreadful emptiness that seemed to shroud nature’s sounds.  

The air was clammy and coiled itself around its surrounding and trapped them in a sticky, sweaty fold.  

The small lake, hidden within an avenue of trees, glimmered in the callow of the sunset.  

The dying sunlight bounced off its surface and the tall cedar trees cast their reflection on the water on the west side of the lake making a dark silhouette against the blue. Small air bubbles emerged on the surface of the lack, disturbing the calmness and caused concentric rings to puff out and disappear as the air hummed all around.

A plopping sound as a body breaks the surface and made the ripples widen out. Arthur’s head bobs above the water as he takes a long trembling breath, panting as he did so.  

He glanced around, turning in a circle and making the murky water flow around him like a gown. He turned his gaze toward the lakeside, squinting his eyes and saw that the figures turned their backs on the lake.  

He seized his chance and quickly paddled away. His legs and arms kicking in water-his own sad excuse for swimming.

 He chuckled humorlessly to himself, before swallowing up water and coughing. He turned to check that they didn’t see him.

 Thank God! He hurriedly paddled to a nearby Sweet flag and hid behind it. His green eyes blended with its own color- a perfect mask for malicious. Croak! A small frog sitting on a lily pad, stared at him with ugly beady eyes. Then it croaked at him again. Arthur glared at it – shut up you stupid thing or I swear to god I will drown you under you lily pads.  

The frog croaked once more before turning and hopping away on another lily pad. Arthur watched hop away for few seconds before turning his attention back on them. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the figures leave laughing their troubles away. The scorching sun taking its last shuddering breath as it gave away to the night, sinking far into the deep blue.

 But not before tracing the far off figures with its last rays as if wanting to grab them and toss them into her furnace. Arthur watched them with coveting green eyes that narrowed to slits like a cat’s and blended in with its evergreen surroundings.  

Taking a long deep breath and exhaling, the cool fresh air of the night hurt his lungs and he coughed. He turned around and the water twisted with him and settled on the creases of his clothes.  

He pushed himself forward in the water, stretching his neck as far his he could to stay above the surface. He paddled his legs in the water making a swooshing sound, using his arms to break through the water and push it on either side of him as he moved.  

He wheezed and his vision dimmed, and he could see the other side of the lake that he was almost sure that if were to extend his arm more he could touch the wet soil. He pushed himself forward ignoring the strain on his arms and legs and his weeping lungs.

 As he brought his arms forward to cut through the water once more, he was surprised when his fingernails bespattered with slimy mud. He dug his nails further into the ground and pushed himself up and out of the water. His arms shook under his weight and he collapsed halfway, with his legs still the water.  

He started to push himself backward using the muscles of his back until he was out of the water. He lay there on the marsh panting and gasping for breath. His muscles were sore and it felt as if little fire ants were up and down his arms, his clothes were wet and slimy and his pants were covered with algae. Arthur took a deep breath, the water was filthier than ever he supposed, full of disease and parasites.  

He was glad there were not any eels or crayfish around, now those were hard to be rid of. He counted himself lucky, but he still needed a long shower lest he develops schistosomiasis.

 He laughed, he already swallowed the water it’s too late to prevent that now. His entire body shook with laughter and his head smacked against the ground harshly. Yet he still laughed even as he became dizzy, his pupils dilated and unfocused and some gentle wood critters hidden themselves out of terror.  

The laughter got louder and louder until it turned something inhumane-worse than a banshee dying shrieks. Then it stopped. Arthur took a huge gulp of air that seemed to tear itself midway, he looked at the dark night sky with glassy eyes- the last hint of light was gone. He better get home.  

He quickly scrambled to his feet and got up, rubbing the back on his head gingerly. His fingers came into contact with a crispy red crust that fell off his blonde hair in little patches, as he massaged the back of his head. It seems like they did a number on him after all. The tips of his fingers were smeared crimson from the open gash at the back of his head near the closed dry wounds.  

He laughed and sticky wet blood dripped from his muddy hair leaving a crimson trail in his wake, and soaking the rich soil with iron.

**Author's Note:**

> God I wrote this thing a while back on my FF.net account (cakeassistant). Anyway I polished it and added to it a bit and I decided to post it here. I honestly don't remember what I was thinking when I wrote this. There is a large emphasis on colors going on in this story as you can see for reasons that will be explained later on (maybe). Also if you were weirded out or were bored by that squirrel-acorn scene thing, just know that that was Arthur's stream of consciousness as you probably can tell Arthur isn't well…sane, he isn't necessary insane, just mentally not sound? I guess. Yeah so he's probably not a reliable narrator, he rambles a lot and his thoughts wander to other things. As he said he's a bit of scatter-brain.


End file.
